I Am Yours, You Are Mine
by Choice
Summary: It started out as just another day, but then... - WARNING: SMUT AND DOMINATION/POSSESSION KINK.


**I Am Yours, You Are Mine**

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I was marveling over the simple fact that I couldn't remember the last time I wrote good (bad?), honest smut just the other day, so I rummaged through the Prompt Meme and filled _tornadotwister_'s domination kink prompt. I hope y'all like it!

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That minute of that hour of that incidental day had been just like any other spontaneous occurrence, how a parched forest ignited at the faintest spark or the jarring, stunning reality of a surprise bullet making quick work of soft tissues and bursting through bones.

Their little tiff had started out as just that: a little tiff. Puck was always inclined to be a total caveman of a douche-waffle-a grade-A asshole (and proud of it!)-while Kurt was inclined to bitch and complain and make a huge deal out of one jealous fit of Puck's or another. Puck would scoff at and largely ignore Kurt's petty _"I am not an object nor am I your _possession_, I am a human being, Puck"_ arguments. They were used and recycled so much in their relationship, which had begun as a series of fun, harmless quickies that sorta lingered and stuck till it turned into something as domestic and monogamous as the Puckasaurus would permit. Apparently they were _compatible_-they clicked, or some shit like that. Anyway, the words lost the majority of their meaning and potency after the first couple of times.

To be honest, all Puck ever heard when Kurt was on one of his I-have-a-problem-with-your-badass-assertiveness rants was a humming, garbled white noise. Actually, it was more like an annoying fly buzzing around his ear, or radio static that no amount of knob-fiddling or dash-slapping could solve. Hey, it was no skin off his bones to sit there and grumble and/or grunt his way through it. 'sides, Kurt tuckered out pretty quickly, and when he'd said his piece (and then some), Kurt would rush off in a huff, a frustrated and high-strung hurricane of irate energy.

Nothing out of the ordinary, right? Right.

"And did you _really_ have to practically _bend me over_ that display in the GameStop just because some guy looked at me with something _other_ than blatant, outright disgust?" Kurt demanded in a fierce holler. "Honestly, if there're more jealous assholes like _you_ out there, using corruptive, retina-burning PDA to _stake your claim_-whatever logic, _if any_, your primitive brain formulates-it's no wonder a good portion of the population are against homosexuality!"

Puck grunted like he was listening, giving Kurt half an ear as he hefted a dumbbell in a slow, rhythmic pattern. He relished in the dull, satisfying ache of lifting a forty-fiver as Kurt kept up with all his yapping. _It goes on and on and on and o-o-on…_ Puck was going through glee numbers in head just to keep from falling asleep right then and there. If he started snoring, he wouldn't hear the _end_ of it.

"It wasn't even like I was flirting with him!" Puck glanced over to eye Kurt's flushed face with appreciation. He always looked so fuckin' hot all revved up like that, which was part of the reason why Puck did the douchey things he did. "I mean, I went to take out my phone and I accidentally bumped into him. Does _that_ constitute as a come-on to you, Mr. Flintstone?"

"Please," Puck huffed as he set the weight back onto the rack beside his workout bench. "That wasn't _accidentally_ bumping into that pimply nerd, you totes rear-ended him… there was total ass-to-dick action!"

"I stepped back-away from _you!_-so I could get to my pocket! I didn't grind my butt into his groin, I'd like to think I'd remember something like _that!_"

"Like hell you would," Puck growled. "The Puckzilla is the _only_ 'groin' you'll ever remember, got it?"

Kurt did what Puck had long ago named his Angry-Spaz Dance: his whole body shivered like he'd just been dunked into a pool full of slushie and icy blue eyes flared wide before narrowing dangerously. Puck smirked. Here it comes…

"Noah Puckerman," Kurt said tersely, his hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists at his sides. "You-I-you are a _disgusting_, avaricious control freak and I don't know _what_ it is I see in you that keeps me from kicking you in the nuts! I just-_ugh!_" Kurt threw his hands in the air-it reminded Puck of Schue's stupid jazz hand shit-before he stalked out of the weights room, presumably to cool off and pull the huge stick out of his ass. Puck didn't sweat it; Kurt always found his way back to Puck when he was done with his diva moments.

He whistled a tune as he patted his sweaty face off on his balled-up shirt, grimacing at the ranky smell of his weeks-old Hanes. Yeah, maybe his mom was right about doing his gym clothes more than just once every other month. (Not that he'd actually _tell_ her that.) He got up and left the workout room, bumping fists with Sam and a few other decent dudes as he went.

Puck planned on hitting showers for a bit, maybe slip out back for a quick smoke so he could unwind. He had US History next period, but he usually blackmailed the teacher's pet into giving him notes so he had more than five seconds to clean up.

On his way to the locker room, a noise so freakishly familiar it gave him goosebumps stopped him in his tracks. It was coming from the door that led to the unused part of the boys' locker room. (Long story short: a butt-rocket stunt gone wrong. Don't try it at home, kids-leave pyroflatulence to the experts unless you wanted to burn the entire school down or roast your chestnuts.)

His eyebrows flew up in befuddled surprise when someone stretched his name out in a moan. It freaked him out a bit, like that time he fooled around with a Ouija board, but at the same time his obviously interested dick got half-hard in his basketball shorts. More than a little curious and totally rocker-badass enough to hesitate, Puck tried the door-locked. He shrugged and jimmied it open. One useful thing juvie taught him was how to open locked storage closets to hide out in. Sadly, he'd picked up the trick _after_ having his piercing yanked right outta his man-titty.

He was wincing, reliving the pain of that shit when the door slammed open to reveal…

"_Kurt?_"

To say seeing his boyfriend, flushed and huffing like a dog in heat with his _hand down his pants_ was a bit odd was a _huuuge_ understatement. Like, "Hitler was just a _little_ crazy"-huge. Hell, it was like saying Puck was only sort of awesome-a total fucking lie. Seriously, look at his goddamn guns! Wait a sec… how the hell did Kurt _manage_ to fit even his _pinkie_ in there? Those skinny jeans were made like Fort Knox-Puck would know.

God-no, the entire fucking _universe_ must've thought Puck needed a lesson in "Expect the unexpected" because instead of freezing up like a deer in headlights at being caught jerking himself off in a charred locker room that reeked of thousand-year-old ass and mold, Kurt looked Puck right in the eye and whipped his dick out, like a cowboy drawing his gun in a shootout. Just… _saywha?_ Was this the start of the Apocalypse-were exhibitionist aliens taking over peoples' bodies? Puck hoped not, 'cause he hadn't gone to Temple in a while and if clone-Kurt ate him or something-well, it's safe to say Puck wouldn't be on the top of the 'going to Heaven' list.

Just in case his eyes were playing tricks on him, or last night's quesadillas were repeating on him in the trippiest way, Puck slowly pulled the creaky door shut. He looked at all the initials and crude drawings carved into the ancient wood with a thousand-yard stare, counting to three before he pushed it open again.

Yeah… maybe it was those fuckin' quesadillas.

"Kurt," Puck repeated, so thrown it wasn't even funny. It was like _Inception_-whack, because since when did goody-two-shoes Kurt _I'm-Above-PDA_ Hummel rub one out where one of the creepy janitors-or worse, Karofsky-could catch him? "What in _fucking special-hell_ are you _doing?_"

Kurt stared at Puck with a lust-drunk, half-lidded smirk. Sweet zombie Moses, Puck would erect (ha) monuments to that look. Kurt's hand pumped up and down his dick; for a long, tense moment, the only noise that could be heard was the wet _fap-fap_ of Kurt jerking himself off. Puck wasn't sure if he was pulling a Darth Vader, or if their deep breathing was echoing together in the locker room.

Kurt licked his lips. Puck eyes were glued to Kurt's mouth as the other boy said, "Are you going to come in here, Puck, or are you going to stand there with the door wide open? I'm-_ah_-not really interested in the gym teacher pressing charges against me for public indecency."

"Coulda fooled me," Puck growled, but the simple reminder that anyone could walk by and see Kurt (FYI, _no one else_ was allowed to see his boy all porn-worthy and shit) had him sprinting forward and shutting the door behind him, making sure he locked it. He shoved a grody-ass bench under the doorknob for good measure before stalking forward and pinning Kurt up against a partially blackened row of lockers. He was a little too rough-or so he thought-but Kurt just moaned his name again, wailing enough to put Moaning Myrtle to shame._"Puuuuuck"_ ricocheted around the closed-off area; Puck swore his teeth vibrated from that sinful, sexy noise.

Puck wasted no time in giving Kurt a lot of X-rated bump-and-grind action. The way he corkscrewed his hard-on into Kurt's hip, you'd think he'd drill right through Kurt and into the locker behind him. Kurt gave as good as he got, one hand digging into the back of Puck's sweat-sticky neck to drag him down into an open-mouthed, tooth-clacking kiss while he slipped his free hands into Puck's shorts to give his ass a good squeeze.

"_Holy-!_" Puck pushed into Kurt's hand, going cross-eyed at all the awesome but totally teasing pressure against his man-G-spot.

"Was I doing this to that guy in GameStop, Puck?" Kurt practically exhaled into his mouth. "Huh?" Puck growled low in his throat, barely resisting the urge to clench his hands around Kurt's hips… just barely. Of course, _then_ Kurt went and whispered, "…What if I _wanted_ to do this to Ryan?"

"Ryan?" Puck spat out, "Who the fuck is _Ryan?_" The rest of that sentence caught up to his hazy brain, and he saw fucking _red._

Kurt yelped in surprise when Puck whipped them around, slamming Kurt up against the opposite wall. Kurt's pupils were blown as Puck grabbed both of Kurt's wrists and held them up above the other boy's head. Puck shoved his hips forward, all roughness and bruising intent (so Kurt would remember who the fuck he belonged to later on, if he even _thought_ about that dickface, Ryan). He watched with no small amount of blood-pumping satisfaction as Kurt's jaw went slack almost instantly.

After a moment, however, he frowned at Kurt's dazed expression. Was he taking things a bit too far? He'd never gone as far as he was just then, not with Santana or any other girl he'd been with (definitely not Quinn). He wanted to do more-fuck, _so_ much more-but he didn't wanna practically _rape_ Kurt. He sorta really liked the dude, deep down.

Puck slowed to a stop and went to take a step back, only to have his eardrums practically explode from Kurt shrieking, "_You pussying out on me, Noah Puckerman?_"

Puck's eyes widened to the point where spots started blurring his vision (kinda like that time he smoked something funky in freshman year), gaping at Kurt in utter bewilderment before something clicked in what Kurt had dubbed his pea-sized gorilla-brain.

He took in the flush painting Kurt's cheeks, those dark, glassy eyes and-of _course_, the more-than-obvious boner digging into Puck's thigh. (Yeah, couldn't forget that one.) It added up to_something_, alright. He was one hundred percent sold on his hunch when Kurt followed his ball-buster up with a threatening, "Maybe I'll just give Ryan a call since you're _clearly_ not a _real_man."

He hid his shit-eating grin behind a pissed-off snarl. "Like _fuck_ you will," he intoned, his voice freakishly calm as it rumbled through his chest. He crowded Kurt back into the wall, screwing humanity and giving in to the Puckasaurus. He relished in the freeing sensation of something inside of himself snapping loose and coming undone.

For once Puck wasn't worried about coming on too strong and scaring Kurt away, because- "You like this, don't you?" he growled into Kurt's ear right before catching the lobe between his teeth and biting hard enough to sting. Kurt jumped and let out a noise caught between a startled yip and a needy whine. It might've been hilarious, but right now it just made Puck's dick ooze pre-cum all over the front of his gym shorts. "You fucking _like_ it, and all this time you bitched about how _primitive_ I was being. You couldn't stop sayin' how angry and disgusted and _ashamed_ it made you feel to have me act like that!"

Kurt must've caught the slight hurt in his tone at that because he turned his face forward, looking guilty as he moved in to kiss Puck. He used his free hand to force Kurt's head back, pressing against his Adam's apple with just enough pressure to stun. A part of him thrilled at the action, the vulnerable, caged but aroused look in Kurt's wide eyes. He saw his angry scowl reflected in those wide pupils and was sorta amazed. Was that really him? _Pretty fuckin' sexy, if I do say so myself._

"_No,_" he reprimanded, squeezing Kurt's throat once in warning before stroking his fingers along the perfect, pristine contours of Kurt's neck. His vision tunneled to focus on the bobbing motion of Kurt swallowing and he leaned forward-almost on autopilot-to latch onto the tendon clearly visible through Kurt's pale, unblemished skin. _Too perfect,_ he thought to himself as he bit down with bruising purpose. Kurt was panting above him, muttering words that made no sense in the sexiest wrecked voice Puck had ever heard. That noise? Better than _porn._

He nipped and nibbled, pausing every now and then to soothe wherever he went a bit overboard until he was satisfied with his handiwork. He leaned back and took in Kurt's damp, marked neck with a bone-deep satisfaction before looking up to smirk at Kurt, whose body was shivering from head to toe in an effort to keep still.

"So you thought it'd be cool to trick me, huh?" Puck asked. The irritated, possessive edge from before was still there-it was always there-but he felt a bit cooler, in control. He let himself zen out in the eye of the crazy, scary (in a good way) storm he'd been riding. "You go around like you're so much better than me, above _this_." he hissed, digging the heel of his hand against the underside of Kurt's furiously red, leaking boner. Kurt made a small _ah!_, his mouth falling open into an obscene 'o' as Puck kneaded Kurt's balls with just enough force: a confusing mix of almost too much pain and fucking _amazing_ pleasure.

"And here you are, hand down your pants and jerking yourself off like the pathetic, insecure, scared little bitch you are!" He might've gone too far with that last one. He panted, feeling sandpaper-raw, brutally honest. Maybe Schue was onto something with his whole "Be yourself" shit. (Course, the dude probably didn't mean it like _this_, but to_may_to/to_mah_to, right?) Judging by the look in Kurt's eyes-terrified, exposed and unsure-Puck had hit the nail on right on the head.

…Well, he already knew he was right, but the verification was nice.

He dug his thumb into the inside of one of the wrists he gripped, leaning forward until he was close enough to feel Kurt's frantic breaths against his own lips. Kurt made to kiss him again, and when Puck leaned just beyond his reach he cried out in frustration. "_Puck!_"

"What?" he demanded. "What do you want from me, huh?"

Kurt opened his mouth, only to snap it shut. He tried again, but came up with nothing. "I don't know," he finally said, voice hoarse and wavering.

"You gonna lie to me?" Puck asked roughly. "Gonna tell me you want me to cool it and get lost, Kurt?"

"No! I-I don't know," Kurt stuttered, more than a little desperate. His face was stiff, stress carving creases into his forehead. "I don't… _Puck..._"

He let go of Kurt's hands while he yanked the other boy close, bodies pressing together from their chests to their thighs. "Wanna know what I want from _you?_" he breathed, his heart racing. He idly wondered if Kurt could feel it. "I want your big mouth choking on my dick… That's what _I_ want."

Kurt made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, but he didn't struggle when Puck pushed him down on his knees. He seemed to hold his breath as Puck practically tore his shorts off, staring at Puck's thick, heavy cock in fascination. Puck gravitated closer toward Kurt's face, holding his hard dick down. He let go, watching as it bounced up and caught Kurt on the side of his face. Kurt either didn't notice or didn't care about the smear of pre-cum on his cheek. Kurt said nothing as he rocked forward to latch onto the head of Puck's dick with a desperate sort of greed.

Puck groaned low in his throat, encouraging even as he pushed Kurt further down his dick. He tangled his fingers into the locks of soft hair at the base of Kurt's neck, digging into the boy's scalp for leverage as he thrust into that hot, wet mouth.

Kurt gagged when Puck pushed a bit too far. A tear escaped from one eye, but Kurt made an impatient, angry noise when Puck started pulling away, digging one hand into the skin of Puck's thigh to keep him in place. Puck raised an eyebrow. So that was how Kurt wanted to play?

Without warning, Puck grunted and canted his hips forward. Kurt still choked, but he didn't try to get away or push Puck back. Puck's eyes rolled in the back of his skull at the suggestions of that moment shuddering over the fact that Kurt _wanted_ to take just as much as Puck wanted to give.

His breathing got heavier as he thrust shallowly into Kurt's mouth, teasing and ignoring Kurt's obvious want for more. He pulled back enough so his dick, shiny and dripping with thick spit, nearly fell out of Kurt's pursed lips. He smirked down at Kurt's needy expression before forcing Kurt down by the back of his head.

Kurt's throat muscles fluttered around Puck's dick as Kurt gagged but Puck held fast to Kurt's head, keeping Kurt so close his nose was buried into Puck's pubes. He relented after a moment, letting Kurt go so he could heave in a lungful of air. He shivered as Kurt's breath skated across his wet dick, humming in approval when Kurt let his hand pump Puck fast and hard while he still caught his breath. Kurt was looking up at him, mouth red, wet and hanging open a bit as he worked Puck in his fist.

After a moment, he slapped Kurt's hand away. "I said I wanted your _mouth_ on me," he grit out, eyes narrowed and smoldering. Kurt hissed in a gasp of surprise but wasted no time in swallowing Puck down again.

Puck wasn't under the illusion that he'd last long-after all, it wasn't every day someone would deepthroat him-so when he felt the telltale pressure building, he pushed his hips forward till the back of Kurt's head hit the wall with a soft _thud_. (He wanted to be rough, but he didn't want to give Kurt a fucking _concussion._ Then Burt would _really_ kill him.) Kurt let Puck force past his gag reflex, watery eyes pinched shut as his mouth stretched around Puck's dick. With the help of a hand, Kurt's sneaky tongue managed to tickle the taut skin of Puck's balls. The teasing, wet touch had Puck coming with a shout.

Kurt struggled to swallow, but some cum and spit oozed past his abused lips to trickle down his chin. Puck brushed it away with his hand before it could fall onto Kurt's fancy shirt. Freshly mouth-fucked or not, Puck didn't think Kurt would appreciate jizz all over his precious clothes.

When he glanced down, he had to laugh. Puck was gonna give Kurt a little somethin'-somethin' in return, but he saw the stains covering Kurt's jeans. So… Kurt got off from gagging on dick. He smirked with pride, willing away Kurt's humiliated and uncharacteristically insecure expression with a hot, open-mouthed kiss. His spent dick twitched at the musky taste clinging to Kurt's lips.

They helped tucked each other back into their clothes, sharing a few pecks here and there. When they were as put-together as they'd ever get, Puck brought Kurt close, stroking his hands down Kurt's sides. Kurt mirrored his movements, cuddling closer. "Look, babe… I don't care how stubborn you are with your superiority complex-"

Puck felt Kurt's mouth pull into a scowl against his neck. "I _do not_ have a su-"

"We are _so_ doing this shit again."

Kurt pulled back to look at him. "Puck, I don't know how often I can do… _that_ without permanently hindering my singing voice," Kurt argued, cheeks flushed at the mention of what they'd just done. Puck smirked. _What a prude._ "I don't-"

"I didn't mean _that_," Puck teased. "What I meant was: I'm gonna be the most possessive, jealous dick-for-brains _ever_. You can complain and hit me all you want, but you better let me drag you back to my mancave and have my wicked, Neanderthal way with you. Again…" he whispered, poking Kurt's chest, "And again, and _again._"

Kurt's breathing went uneven; all he could do was nod in agreement.

Puck grinned, breaking the moment. "Awesome. So… wanna hit the showers together?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Maybe Kurt could bend over to pick up the bar of soap when someone walked by. _It'd rev me up for round two after school,_ he thought with a wicked grin in Kurt's direction. Kurt's bewildered but interested frown had him wondering what the hell he did to rack up so many good-karma points with the Big Man to get such an awesome someone he could honestly say was _his_.

Either way, he wasn't about to complain.


End file.
